Not long ago, I had just cracked the perpetual motion project—a feat not quite equal to Einstein or Oppenheimer, but still unprecedented in human history.
Would I really be afraid of a mere actress?
“Sir, let me correct you on something,” I said calmly.
“I have zero interest in your little fan-circle antics. But as for Miss Emily, she’d better not try riding on my fame.”
The man in black instantly flared up.
“You little punk, you’ve got some nerve, huh?”
After cursing at me a few more times, he still seemed unsatisfied, so he rolled up his sleeves and lunged at me again.
Fortunately, I had trained in self-defense since childhood. The man swung several punches, but couldn’t even graze the hem of my jacket. Frustrated, he grew more furious.
“You brat, try dodging one more time and see what happens!”
“Don’t think I won’t call Miss Emily right now!”
Despite his repeated provocation, I didn’t fight back—I just kept dodging.
It wasn’t because I couldn’t win. The airport was crowded, and I couldn’t afford to expose my identity just yet.
Besides, I was carrying confidential documents in my bag—files critical to the future of America’s technological development.